Chapter 5

Impetuous Fire

The sun had risen above the statue and my knees ached when I stood up from my prayer. Like every time I had ever prayed, nothing had changed.

Nothing, except for my ever-increasing desperation.

As I clumsily turned about, my legs cramping and seizing, each of my footfalls echoed in the cavernous space. Had Rodolfo left, silently slipping out respectfully as I kneeled in prayer? Or had he been curious, remaining inside to watch me from the concealed vantage point of some pew. I suppose it didn't matter.

Glancing back at the goddesses' face I offered a final prayer.

"Goddess…I—I."

Her unblinking eyes reminded me that she would never answer me. But Father would be sure to say something to me the next time I saw him. I looked away in shame. "Father," I prayed to the un-answering silence. "Forgive me."

Every pew was empty as I hurried out of the temple through the alternating patches of light and darkness, each of my echoing footsteps chasing me out of the space. I collided with the heavy oaken door and rammed it open with my right shoulder. Blinking, I emerged into the blinding daylight.

I shivered in shadow of a cool morning. The mist over the plateau had dissipated, revealing. pale blue skies beyond the cypresses and a green wood in the distance. Where had the guards gone? Where had he gone?

A figure stirred to my right, jumping to its feet in the shade. "Rodolfo? Is that you?" I asked, praying it wasn't.

Short silver hair bobbed about. It was Purah.

She stared at me, her eyes bearing an ambiguous emotion in the darkness. Was it pity? Disappointment?

"Zelda, you look terrible."

She knew I had failed once again. All the advisors and all the court knew of my failures. Rodolfo had confirmed that—everyone knew that all I did was read and research, rather than pray. A chilling numbness was spreading over me and my aching knees, and I shivered, not so much from the cool morning but from my own nervousness.

"I—I, I didn't, Purah, I—I," but before I could say anything else, her arms were around me. They were warm. I was shocked, but I had no strength to protest.

"It's no matter," she said, as if reading my mind, knowing that all I was thinking of was my own overwhelming failure. She stepped back, grasping my shoulders. "There's no use in focusing on the past," she said, her eyes once again boring into my own. "It is already past, and we have no power over it."

I stared past her shoulder at the cloudless sky, wishing her sentiment were more than a mere platitude.

"I sent the Guards back to the entrance," Purah said, distracting me from my racing thoughts and finally letting go of me. "I didn't want them interrupting our search, nor do I want too many people involved with the research right now. Regardless of how trustworthy they are, you never know who might overhear a quiet conversation and then have a much louder one at a Castletown bar."

"I thought you said that we would be exploring with Robbie and Impa. Where are they?"

"I sent Robbie ahead to Mount Hylia," she said, hurriedly. "And I had Impa assist him. I've always considered 'divide and conquer' to be the best way to accomplish a task. Plus, I really didn't feel like bundling up for a trip into the snowy mountains. I thought the two of us could explore the warmer regions of the pl—"

"Where's Rodolfo?" I interrupted.

"Once I got to here, he was outside the temple and saying he needed to return to the inn," she said, fixing concerned eyes on mine. "Did something happen?"

"No."

She accepted my answer in silence. Kneeling, she offered me a small black rucksack slumped by her feet. "Here are your traveling clothes. Hopefully everything you need is in there, but if you can't find something important, blame my sister. She's the one who packed it."

"Thanks." I pulled out my pants, shirts, and boots. As I set my boots upright, my journal fell out of one of them, and I tucked it back into the rucksack. Purah was saying something I barely paid attention to—"I wanted to explore with you because I have a good feeling about your instincts."

I bent forward, slipping the warm pants over my legs. I repeated her words in my head, like the worn-out refrain of one of my prayers, until, after processing everything she said, I looked up quizzically.

"Why do you think I have good instincts?" I asked, pausing and letting the boot laces flop out of my hands and onto the ground.

"I have a good sense for people. And I know you've read so much about Hyrule's history."

"But I know so little of the Hyrule ten thousand years ago," I said, turning away from her to pull a shirt over my shoulders before shimmying out of my dress. "I want to help your search, but I can't direct it. Rodolfo or Impa would be far better suited for this."

"You might not know about the facts of their life, but you know how they think," she said, making a claim that furrowed my brow in confusion. "Besides, as a Sheikah, I know that no prayer to the goddess goes unanswered. I am certain she will lead us to it hiding place."

"Well, if you're looking for someone who can guarantee answered prayers, I think anyone from the royal court could tell you I'm the wrong person for the task."

Her knowing red eyes focused on mine again. "Zelda, you are a deeply intelligent and caring princess who is eager to protect her people. You have a lot in common with the Hyrulean royalty of ten millennia ago."

I sighed. She wasn't going to accept any refusal from me. "If you insist on my help, I will do my best. What exactly are we looking for, anyway?"

It was Purah's turn to sigh defeatedly. "We're not sure. All we know is that there exists a small piece of Sheikah technology that is necessary to operate the divine beasts, and the guidance stones within each of them. "

"And it lies in the shadow of Mount Hylia." I added.

"Yes. And that's why Robbie and Impa are headed toward its peak, to search the mountain itself."

"And you think I might have an idea to where its hidden."

She nodded.

"Well, show me a map of the plateau, then," I said, smiling encouragingly to inspire some hope in her. I couldn't bear the thought of Purah sinking into an unneeded depression and losing her pep. I'd never seen her unhappy and I couldn't imagine it. I was the hopeless one after all, not her. Even if I truly didn't believe in my own ability, Purah needed to believe in herself and keep her vital research going.

"Do you know if 'the shadow of Mount Hylia' is a literal or a figurative shadow?" I asked. She shrugged as she rummaged through another bag by her feet. "Because, if this search will require me to calculate complex geographic equations to figure out the location of its shadow at a specific time on a specific day, I'm not sure I can help you."

"If that were the case, the Sheikah would have passed down more information," she said, still rummaging. "The challenge would be the puzzle itself, and there would be a famous riddle attached to the legend of this technology in the form of a prophecy, or an old song. But, instead, a simple saying was passed down over the years: 'the key to control the beasts, hides, in the shadow of Hylia, like its makers.' There were similar, short phrases about the locations of Vah Naboris and Vah Ruta."

"But how do you know that they mean Mount Hylia, and not the statue of Hylia in the Temple of Time?"

"Simple. The Sheikah are ancient people. Statues don't last forever, but mountains sure do."

"So that means that this technology could be just about anywhere on the plateau, or even in the land to the south?"

"I'm quite sure its on the plateau," she said, having found a small parchment map and stretching it on the patio's banister. "The four divine beasts were buried near the corners of Hyrule," she explained, pointing in turn to Eldin Volcano, Mount Lanayru, the Gerudo Canyon, and Rito Village "Well, Vah Ruta, was technically found near Eldin Volcano. But the beasts still correspond to the four geographic regions at the corners of the kingdom So it makes sense that the technology required to operate them would be hidden near the center of Hyrule."

"What if Robbie's right?" I asked, an idea bursting into my mind.

"What do you mean?"

"What if there is truly something special about the plateau? Not in the way Robbie's drinking buddies believe, but at the very least, it contains Hyrule's most sacred places. And, just as you pointed out on the map, it lies at the heart of the kingdom. What if these sites were built on the foundation of ancient Sheikah technology and that's why the land has become so important?"

I pointed at the center of the plateau, to a hill near the River of the Dead. "We should go here, to the heart of the plateau itself."

"There's nothing marked near the center, but there does appear to be a highland, if I'm reading this map correctly."

"If we return to the first plaza just above the great gate but below the stairs, then perhaps we'll find a way to the center of the map," I said, trying to remember what I had seen when we first arrived on the plateau—that heavenly view, Rodolfo's smiling face, the larks, the various paths leading in numerous directions. I traced a path from the gate to this central highland. "If I remember correctly, there may have been a path from that plaza."

"Brilliant thinking!" Purah declared. "Let's make our way back down there pronto," she said, cramming the map back into her rucksack. "But first, I should pray. It would be improper for me to visit the Temple of Time itself and not offer a prayer to the goddess."

While I hurriedly finished getting dressed, lacing my boots and fastening my belt, Purah slipped through the doors of the temple. But after spending a few minutes folding my dress and golden jewelry into the rucksack, she still hadn't emerged. I tentatively opened the door, lowering my head and squinting my eyes in a pointless attempt to avoid the goddess' gaze. Purah stood before her, illuminated in one of the blue slants of light streaming from a stained-glass window. She clapped twice before staring up at the goddess in a mesmerized silence. She then bowed low, her nose nearly touching the floor, and turned to trot toward the door. I ducked away and shut the door before she could see me.

"Are you all set?" she asked, once standing outside.

I nodded, and we each shouldered a rucksack before walking past each of the chapels past the patio with the fountain. It still babbled a cheerful tuneless song and danced in the morning light. We made our way own the awe-inspiring stairs down o the lower stood facing the view to the north, with the steps behind us. The two guards lazed underneath a tree, one napping with his sword cradled in his arms.

"This is the path, I think," I said, gesturing to my right. Trees clustered around a clearing that stretched toward the hills, suggesting a path or avenue of some sorts.

"Lead the way," Purah said, holding her hands out. "Princesses first, after all," she giggled.

Purah, I began to observe, didn't walk. She skipped or bounced, or in some way that was peculiar to her, lilted about. Each of her moments were joyful and exuberant, which became evident in the way she would jump over logs, pick meadow flowers, or answer bird-calls with her own made-up melody.

We walked through a lovely summer day on a carpet of soft grass and dappled light, covered by a canopy of leaves. Small squirrels and rabbits occasionally bounded across our paths and Purah would coo at each one of them, crouching down and trying to coax them toward her. It was a sparkling, quaint forest, seemingly maintained as meticulously as a rich lord's hunting woods. But there was no trace of human interference. It was as if nature itself had maintained the paths and pruned flowering bushes and shaped tree branches into arbors.

"I must say, I'm surprised you've never visited the plateau, given its importance," Purah said, as she jumped into a patch of emerald green moss.

"I'm quite sure I went here with Mother once." I said, thinking to myself. "But that was long ago. I only remember little vignettes. I suppose I would have returned sooner, but Father has been me against traveling far from the castle, unless it's for prayer." I kicked a branch out of my path. "As I've gotten older, he seems to have gotten more and more cautious, not willing to expose me to danger."

"Impa can act a little bit like that," Purah said simply in response. "She's my younger sister, but ever since there was an accident with the ancient energy in the castle, she asked me to step down from my advisory position and devote all my time to research."

"I didn't know that."

"Well, I suppose that's good, Purah said with a smile. "If the Princess of Hyrule herself hasn't heard it, then that means the gossip mongers didn't hear too much about it either."

"But that was a long time ago," she said, having paused to stare reflectively at a paper birch swaying in the breeze, "and I'm much happier with my role now. I really don't like the few public aspects of my position which require council meetings, but if I could research all day, I would."

"It's so wonderful that you know what you enjoy and excel at and have found a position that allows you to do those things."

I must have said this with a touch of sadness in my voice, because Purah turned to hold my shoulders again and looked at me in her comfortingly confrontational way. "Zelda, I know I'm no Princess and I've never been in your shoes. But try not to be too hard on yourself. You only just turned sixteen. I'm twenty-four and I still don't know everything about myself. It takes time to figure out your life."

I nodded, wanting to believe her, and wishing that I too could be released from my official responsibilities and devote my entire life to research. But that could never happen until I had accessed my sealing powers.

"Look! Purah suddenly exclaimed, her hands flying from my shoulders to point at the ground. "There are ancient stone steps on this path! I think you found the right way to go."

"I'm amazed there's an established path, considering it was unmarked on the map."

"Well, perhaps it was recorded, but maps have long since forgotten about it."

"Also, how do we know that no one has already discovered what we're looking for and hidden it away elsewhere? Don't many pilgrims visit the plateau?" I asked.

"Yes, but they're technically only allowed to visit the holy sites. They're asked to remain on paved paths, and royal historians guide them from place to place to prevent them from wandering about. And, I'm surprised you don't know this, but only royalty or embassies of the crown are permitted access to the rest of the land."

"Well, as I said before, Father has kept some things from me while trying his best to keep me close to the castle."

"And to answer your first question, there's a chance that no one has traversed this past in hundreds, if not thousands of years."

"I also had another question for you." I said, hoping she wouldn't think me too dumb. "What exactly are the guidance stones? I remember you mentioning them earlier."

"They're these crystals that transfer information between pieces of Sheikah technology. From what we discovered, we understand that the guidance stones within the divine beasts are the parts by which one activates and controls them."

"But how can they move information?"

"I'm not sure, but the liquid of ancient technology stores information and transfers it to the guidance stones, which then perform an action. How else do you think the divine beasts moved and the guardians fought autonomously?"

I nodded in answer, but within a few minutes we were both panting as we reached the top of the path. To our left, a small cliff climbed upward. To our right, the plateau and the surrounding land stretched impressively around us.

"Damn, what a view," Purah said, admiring the expansive vista below us. "What a shame that the path seems to end here. Do you think we need to scramble over this cliff and toward the mountain?"

"I wish I kn—I began to say, but was interrupted by a thought "—wait, Purah, look at that rock," I said, pointing to a large rock, against the cliff that seemed to be propped against it and not a part of it. "I don't think it's part of the cliff, I think it's been placed there to conceal something, like a door."

"You're right, Zelda!" She ran toward the rock and felt around it, pressing her ear around its edge. "If I'm not mistaken, there's air flowing around it."

"But how are we going to get it open?"

"Zelda, never doubt me when pyrotechnics are involved. I got in trouble at the castle because of an explosion. Do you think I ever travel around without things that, ahem, explode?"

"Of course not," I said, feeling the need to laugh and run in fear simultaneously.

"I'd recommend that you head back down the path about a hundred feet or so, but after I give an all clear, you can come back."

After I had sprinted away and heard a subsequent loud boom, Purah called out—"It's all clear, the fires are out!"—and I hesitantly trekked back up the slope. She had already entered the opening in the cliff, a circular opening that led into a long cavernous space that descended further into the cliff with a long staircase near the back.

"It's a cave, there's nothing in here," Purah said, her voice echoing dully in the empty space as she waved a torch about. "Well, except for the Sheikah carvings around the entrance, the orange constellations on the walls, and these markings on the back wall. But no ancient technology."

I carefully walked into the cave. The designs were definitely of a the traditional Sheikah pattern. As I descended the stairs toward Purah, a thought flickered into my mind. "Perhaps Robbie was right, that something was placed on top of this land. Because this tunnel seems to suggest that something lies hidden underneath the surface."

But Purah wasn't listening. A sudden inexplainable distress had overwhelmed her. "Why, Hylia, why!" she called, before muttering a few curses to herself. "We've come all this way and it's only a shrine." She slammed her fist against it and screamed some more curses.

"What's so bad about shrines? Couldn't the technology be within one?"

"The problem with shrines," she said, from her spot on the ground which she had collapsed unto, "is that they are designed as testing grounds, to increase the chosen hero's strength and wisdom. We've found some scattered all of the lands. But they're only accessible to the hero, and so we haven't been able to enter them."

"But the technology was meant to serve the descendant of the goddess, right?"

I pressed my hand against it, and the door arranged itself into rectangular pieces and ascended into the ceiling.

"Zelda! How did you do that?" Purah asked, scrambling to her feet. "There's no way you should be able to access a shrine."

"Maybe its not a shrine," I answered, unsure of where this sudden inspiration was coming from. "But if the Sheikah weren't left a key to access this place, then surely the royal family should be able to get inside."

"I knew you had a good instinct for this," Purah said, a smile beaming across her face.

Another empty room lay beyond the door. Six blue lanterns gleaming from the walls illuminated the space, alongside more of the orange stars. Like a carpet, a path on the floor was adorned with the intricate clay-like carvings of Sheikah technology. We climbed a short staircase upward, and two white lanterns beamed to either side of us.

"Another door," I breathed.

"Goddess, please don't let this be a labyrinth," Purah prayed. "Let our destination be beyond this door."

"One way to find out." I pressed my hand to the second door, and it, like the one behind me, slid upward in parts.

"What is this place?" The next room was bizarre, with a patterned floor of the serpentine Sheikah design. There was no other door, but pillars of a similar Sheikah design buttressed the walls. More orange constellations glowed on the wall, adding a bit of light to the space. And in the center of the room sat a bizarre object that resisted explanation or classification. It looked like a misshapen, bulbous bathtub, yet was too enormous and without visible water pipes.

"What is this thing?" Purah asked. The top attaches to the ceiling like a stalactite, but this is no ordinary rock. I doubt this is a shrine."

To my right, a pedestal stood besides the door, with a crystal piece hanging from the ceiling above it. The top surface of the pedestal emanated blue light arranged in geometric half-circles.

"That's a guidance stone," Purah said, pointing at the crystal. "Are we inside a shrine? Or have we found some other space of ancient Sheikah technology?"

Just as I had done with the doors behind me, I touched it. Blue light gleamed in strange symbols from within the stone pedestal itself. I quickly withdrew my hand in fear. The pedestal's flat top began to rearrange itself, flipping itself around, as the guidance stone above it shone with a brilliant blue light, on which ancient Hylian runes descended.

The pedestal now presented me with a small box, a strange looking tablet of sorts. I took it in my hands. Although it had been buried in cool stone for millennia, it warmed my hands.

"How did you do that?"

"I don't, I don't know." I breathed, amazed and slightly scared. "I just touched it with my hand and the pedestal glowed and rearranged itself to reveal this."

"The runes on the guidance stone said 'Master, have this and use it.'" Purah said, excitement coursing through her voice. "Zelda, I think you just found the ancient technology we were looking for."

"But its just a strange box."

"Knowing the ancient Sheikah, this is the most ordinary-looking piece of technology they ever produced," Purah said with a slight laugh. "Zelda, you've done in a morning what a team of us haven't been able to do in years. But I won't beat myself up over this, because maybe you were right. Maybe only those with the blood of the goddess can access this place."

"It just felt like the right thing to do," I said, marveling at the glowing room that surrounded me. What a strange cavern. And what strange, advanced technology.

"I want to sketch this place before we leave," she said, dropping her bag to the floor and pulling a small leather notebook of her own from within it. She began to study the central platform before rendering its shape with broad gestures in charcoal. She paused before scribbling several notes. "I also want to measure these rooms to compare each of its dimensions to those of the divine beasts' control rooms."

For the next several hours we scrambled about, holding a measuring rope to each wall and surface, notating every number. As Purah sketched and wrote, I spun the Sheikah box about in my hands. It was made of a confusing material, somewhere between a stone and a metal. The designs were so typical of Sheikah artistry ten thousand years ago. On one side, the Sheikah eye had been emblazoned, revealing the identity of its creators like a signature on a painting. On the other side, was a sheet of a strange glass-like substance. And a rectangle was carved out of it, allowing me to easily grip it.

"What do we do now?" I asked once we had climbed out of the cave and into the blinding daylight.

"We wait for Impa and Robbie to decide they're cold and leave Mount Hylia. Knowing Robbie, I anticipate that will be soon."

"But how will they know where we are?"

"We agreed to meet someplace with a view of the temple. And they might just walk out on this side of the lake, if we're lucky," she said, studying her map again. "We'll find someplace visible and keep an eye on the mountain path until we see them leave."

We walked down the sloping path for a few minutes until the Temple of Time rose from beyond the hills.

"Let's stop here," she said, gesturing to a small clearing under a rock overhang. "There's a perfect view of the temple and everything, plus we'll be out of the sun."

I settled myself on a small rock. A lake with steep cliff-like walls separated us from the temple. I then slid the journal from my bag and uncapped the fountain pen wedged between the pages. It was old and leaky and had left a few splotches on the inside cover.

Today we uncovered some ancient technology that we believe may have the power to control the Guidance Stone. It is a rectangular object, small enough to be held in my two hands.

"What are you writing?" Purah asked, bending over my shoulder to look at my notes. Instinctually I slammed it shut with a startled shout.

"Just some notes from today," I said defensively, "nothing special. I've made it my mission to record everything I learn about the ancient technology, so that I can better help your research."

"Hmm." Purah said, not believing me. "Are you sure it's not the diary where you record all of your romantic princessy feelings and every memory of your dance with Link?"

"No!" I shouted, "these are just research notes! And even if I were to keep a diary, which I don't, I'll have you know that it's written in code."

She laughed in response. "Whatever you say, Princess."

I finished writing.

Sheikah text is featured prominently on it. It is made of an unknown material, but we believe it is the same as the shrines scattered across each region.

After finishing the notes, I watched Purah study the technology.

"The more I look at it, the more this looks familiar," Purah said, flipping the box around in her hands. "I need to check the ancient Sheikah tapestry, but if I remember correctly, there's a small, faded icon on the upper right corner that features a similar design. The handle and the 'manako,' the Sheikah eye design, are both pictured there."

But after hearing her comments for what seemed like an hour, something moving flickered behind her on the grassy hill that stretched toward the mountain. It was Robbie and Purah, returned from the snowy highlands. Robbie dragged a thick woolen sweater behind him and Impa fanned her face with the end of a scarf. Both wore expressions of exhaustion on their ruddy faces. "Purah, they're back," I said, clambering to my feet and pointing at them.

"Hey!" Purah shouted, jumping to her feet, and waving the Sheikah technology about to attract their attention. "Guess what we found!"

"Wha—" Robbie said, his confusion turning to excitement on his face.

"We found the Sheikah technology!" I shouted, jumping up and down with excitement.

"Where did you find it?" Impa and Robbie asked in unison.

"Zelda found it," Purah said with pride.

Impa squealed with joy. Within a second she had run up to me and wrapped her arms around me

"Zelda, you're so amazing!" she exclaimed.

"What is it?" Robbie asked. "Does it do anything?"

"Purah handed it to him. "Not that we know of so far."

"What a strange little thing," Robbie said, turning it in his hands. "This might just fit into the openings on the control room terminals in the Divine Beasts. But I wonder if it needs to be activated in some way."

"I'm unsure of the glass-like bit on its one side," Purah said, standing on tiptoes to peer around his shoulder. "And we're unsure if there's some other functionality to it."

"Where did you find it?" Impa asked. "And how did you know where to look?"

"Zelda thought of searching the center of the plateau, given that the plateau is the central heart of the kingdom," Purah said excitedly. "So, we consulted a map and then ended up on an old path, and we were led to a cave hidden by a rock. And behind the cave was a hallway and then another room, containing some mysterious pieces of ancient technology. And then this," she brandished the technology about, "was sitting on a pedestal, just waiting to be used."

"A cave?" she asked. "Was it a shrine?"

"No, it has similar architecture, contained a Guidance Stone, and looks to have been built around the same time, but it was carved into the stone itself. It doesn't have that traditional shape."

"Robbie, have read anything about ancient caves dug by the Sheikah?"

"No, I know just as much as you," he said, rubbing his chin and staring at the technology. "The only clue I knew was that old saying about the shadow of Hylia. And I don't know much about the Great Plateau besides its geography."

"We'll leave first thing in the morning and then we should be able to spend most of the afternoon in the labs," Impa said, already scribbling in a journal. "You two will need to discover its capabilities before we test it on a Divine Beast or before this is reported to the King."

"Yes sir," Robbie said, offering a joking salute.

"I will, however, take it with me while I examine the cavern myself. I haven't found any records mentioning a place like this."

"And Zelda."

"Yes?" I asked, glancing up.

"I want you to hold onto the technology for a while, after I examine the cavern. It only seems right, since you discovered it."

"I'll take it, Impa, but I'm not sure what to do with it."

"Well mess around with it, do whatever comes into your mind. I don't think you can harm it," she said, as she began violently shaking and rattling the box in her hands absentmindedly. "I think an outsider's opinion might be necessary to figuring out how it works. Robbie and Purah have been examining Sheikah technology almost nonstop for the past ten years and they might miss the simplest approach that you wouldn't."

"Hey!" Purah complained, "my innovative research techniques have produced many results over the years!"

"Yes, innovative, as you said so yourself, but not simple. I want Zelda's opinion first." She softened her tone and then turned to her sister. "Plus, I'm also going to need you two to search for any and all records of this strange cave."

While they spent a few hours examining the mysterious cave chambers, their echoing voices occasionally spilling out of its doors, I sat outside, content to bask in the sunlight and feel the wind on my face. The view from the chamber rivaled the view I had seen this morning. A forest spread underneath the rocky outcropping, the temple rising to my right. And beyond the great gray walls of the plateau, blue-green fields stretched, and purple mountains towered heavenward. Wind rippled through the fields of lupines in waves, like an ocean of purple. Even eagles circled beneath my perch.

I inhaled, reveling in the last afternoon away from the Castle. Things would be different when I returned tomorrow, even if I were able to keep researching with the Sheikah. My father would have no reason to congratulate me. And Link, what would I do about him? But this golden afternoon was lovely. And it was mine for now.

Shadows stretched and lengthened in the late afternoon as I waited. I added another line to my notes:

Impa proposed that I hold onto it for now. I hope that it leads to some new developments in our research.

The sound of Robbie and Purah's bickering growing louder meant that we were finally headed back to the inn. I stood up and watched the two of them bound out of the cavern, followed by Impa, who shook her head with her eyes closed.

"First one to the bottom is a rotten egg." Robbie called, skipping down the path.

"And remember, Robbie, you owe me a drink tonight," Purah called chasing after him, her voice dropping in pitch the further she got from me.

And so we joined the throngs of travelers, the working folk who everyday gathered in the town's taverns as the day faded to night. From just above the great gate, the awnings of the town looked like the squares of a quilt, and the grand pillars marking the main road were pins. But this small town, which grew larger with each step, was the site of a nightly ritual, one that had existed since the goddesses created the world. And without knowing, I became a pilgrim once again, journeying to this sacred site. My fellow pilgrims would travel from their fields of sweaty labor, dusty roads, and cramped stores, and seek out some place where they might hear sacred music and drink the life-giving nectar of the gods. All would catch the gold of sunset's light in amber bottles and drink down to the dregs the panacea for all their troubles and a celebration of all their small victories. And, for the first time in my life, I was an ordinary Hylian girl, seeking rest after a long day's work.

"What's this?"

Impa looked at my confusion and smiled. "Its sparkling wine, you'll enjoy it."

"But—"

"You've earned it," she said with a wink, before twirling away with the dark bottle toward another table.

A glass goblet sat on the wooden bar counter, shimmering bubbles rising toward the candles that perched in the black iron lamps above me. I took a cautious sip, the ball and the morning after it flashing through my mind. Maybe the wine would conjure up the same reckless joy I had felt then. But I'd limit myself to a single glass tonight. I felt no need to repeat that headache and the churning stomach.

The same bar, which yesterday seemed so noisy, so uncomfortable, and so overwhelming, now welcomed me in, drawing me closer towards its liveliness. The same crowd called loudly but joyfully, accompanied by the upbeat fiddle tunes of a few folk musicians. Moths circled the lamplight and the travelers' faded hats, skimming across the rough-hewn beams and floating through the open windows, which were glazed with the shimmer of candlelight and dancing figures.

A few couples danced about, the women in vibrant skirts and shawls of every color, and men in tall boots. The barmaid who greeted us yesterday was entertaining a group of young men. They erupted in laughter as she mimed some sort of physically-intensive chore—I think she was pulling a stubborn bull through a muddy field?

I perched on a stool near the corner of the bar, the perfect vantage point to gaze out the westward windows and hear the music while avoiding detection. The sun's last rays were setting out the window, and the light seemed to transform every dusty bottle and every weary face staring into a drink besides me at the bar into something new and sparkling.

Absentmindedly, I sipped, again and the bubbles seemed to rise right through the roof of my mouth and into my head. Surely it wasn't proper for a Princess to be in an institution like this. But no one, seeing me wearing trousers or an non-embroidered cloak around my shoulders, would ever suspect me of being a princess.

To my right, Purah sat at a small private table. Robbie leaned over her, pointing to some destination on the map she was studying. She smiled at him and something about the wordless encounter made him settle himself at the stool besides hers and lean closer toward her.

I held my breath as he reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

Something brushed past me and I startled, quickly looking out the window behind the bar, where I could make out the shape of horses in a field behind several ornate bottles. Heat rose to my face and settled in my ears.

"Good evening, my lady," a familiar voice said, with as much musical as the fiddles. "Ah, watching the lovebirds, I see?"

"Rodolfo! I—lovebi—they're together?" I spluttered, my embarrassment turning to excitement at this confirmation of my suspicions.

"Ehh, we shall see how the night progresses." His golden goblet flashed as he sipped some unseen liquid slowly. A smirk-like smile gleamed in his eyes. "Although, the course of true love never did run smooth."

"But," I paused, hoping I was remembering the line correctly, "I thought that 'love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.'"

He, clearly impressed, smiled a genuine smile, one that rippled outward from his sparkling teeth into the crinkles that obscured his eyes. "The great bard himself. But I'd expect nothing less from a princess."

I smiled to myself as well. Two could play this game. And if he thought he'd be able to outwit me with famous quotations at every opportunity to demonstrate his exemplary schooling, well he was wrong. I may not have memorized all the great bard's plays, or the famous poetry written in middle-Hylian, but who else had read more of the castle library than me? I had more than enough knowledge to match wits with him. Nor did I need his praise. But I would certainly savor it.

Reveling in the high repute I had leveraged for myself, I teased him further, before tossing my goblet back for a self-satisfied sip. "I thought you said you didn't enjoy taverns, Rodolfo."

"Yes, you are right, my lady. But you will find that that I can be convinced to make an exception when the fiddles play in-tune," at this he gestured at the musicians behind me. I giggled. "And fine wine flows freely from oaken casks," he raised his drink, as if toasting the bartender, "and," his red eyes became the intoxicating color of wine, his voice softened, and his hand now pointed toward me, "the conversation is lovely."

His eyes were no longer laughing but burned with an intense fire. They sparked flames in my now-warming, and surely reddening, cheeks.

Please sit down," I said, looking for any excuse to break our gaze, and finding one in the empty stool to my right. He bowed his head and sat down. A few minuscule songbirds, embroidered in a shimmering red thread, fluttered along the seams of his navy-colored tunic.

"Is this champagne?" I asked, hoping to revive the conversation. "It tastes different from what was served at the ball, but it is sparkling wine. Are there different types of champagne?"

"I'm not sure what it is. Do you mind if I take a sip?" he asked, miming an imaginary glass in his hand.

"No, not at all."

"Ah. Forgive my earlier impropriety, at not toasting the royal family," Rodolfo said, hurriedly raising his glass "To the Princess. That she may succeed in all her endeavors, just as she has today."

My cheeks flushed before twitching into a smile. But as much as I wanted to protest, I remained silent and stared down at the small ring of moisture the glass left on the counter.

I glanced upward and, as he sipped, our eyes met. His red eyes, although so alive with emotion, stayed motionless, fixed on mine. I flicked my eyes further upward toward the lantern. Rodolfo looked to be about Link's age. Yet you couldn't find two men more dissimilar. Rodolfo's skin was pale and etiolated, like a plant robbed of the sun for too long. As demure as he was, Link had seemed to radiate some inner light. But perhaps it was just the rich tan and golden hair of a man who had spent long hours in the sun. And whereas Link was quiet to the point of invisibility, every aspect of Rodolfo was loud. He didn't yell or gesture dramatically like Robbie, but Rodolfo acted to draw attention to himself. His embroidered tunic, his shining hair, so perfectly parted and styled, and his ruby-red eyes, which were far more brilliant than those of any other Sheikah I'd ever met, became the shining center of a universe toward which planets and watching eyes gravitated.

"It's prosecco," he announced, having already returned the glass to its spot in front of me.

"Is that champagne?"

No, just another type of sparkling wine. Its grapes are grown in southern Akkala."

I nodded in response, unsure I knew enough about wine or Akkalan agriculture to respond aloud.

"Southern Akkala is also famous for its brandy. I'm sure the castle has served aged Akkala brandy many a time."

"I wouldn't know," I responded softly, "I've only just turned sixteen."

His face paled. "Oh, that was a rather stupid of me. I do suppose, your Father, being the King, wouldn't allow you to drink before the legal age."

Not wanting him to feel embarrassed, I started talking. "Father always told me he'd tutor me in the etiquette of being a lady as I grew older, but his focus on the prophecy, and ensuring that I am ready to meet it, has made him rather one-minded recently, I suppose."

A somber silence descended upon our corner of the bar, muffling the fiddles and harmonized shouts. Rodolfo gazed at the purple sky beyond the windows and a sunset glaze obscured his fiery eyes. "I also wanted to apologize for my actions in the temple," he said as seriousness fell like a shadow on his face. Yet the sorrow in his eyes seemed genuine. "I shouldn't have disturbed you."

I was surprised by his apology. It pleased me and softened my face into a warm half-smile of sorts. But it also kindled the smoldering anger that had slept within my heart all day. And that impetuous fire wouldn't be quickly extinguished.

I darted my eyes away from his sincere-seeming ones, trying to think of a way not to answer, because the more I remembered my anger and frustration in the temple, the more I didn't feel like forgiving him. I would forget it for now, but I certainly wouldn't forgive him. Not now.

And then Impa arrived as a heaven-sent distraction, sitting down at the stool to my left. She reclined against the bar counter and crossed her legs toward the smartly dressed merchant to her left. I immediately swiveled to face her.

She nodded to Rodolfo in greeting. "Ah Rodolfo, I'm surprised to see you here. I didn't know this was your type of environment."

Now it was his turn to be speechless. He looked about, trying to start several different sentences, before settling on one explanation. "You do know how much I do love good folk tunes, especially a lovely old waltz." He smiled and lazily conducted an invisible orchestra.

"Naturally," Impa replied, bemused, before sipping at her fresh cider. It was nonalcoholic, she had explained earlier, as she never drank anything alcoholic when Robbie was also drinking.

"What are your opinions on your sister and Robbie?" I asked, desperate to spark some new conversation and to drive thoughts of apologies from Rodolfo's head as well as my own.

"As what?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and sipping again. "Pray tell."

"How do feel about the two of them sharing drinks at a table unchaperoned?" Rodolfo asked, glancing over at them, eager to be the bearer of romantic developments. "Or Robbie wrapping his arms around her?"

I followed his glance. Robbie had snaked his arm around the back of Purah's chair and stroked her shoulders with his thumb. Purah was chugging from a beer stein, her head tilted back and the mug nearly parallel with her face. Ah, love.

"Interesting," Impa said in a rather emotionless way. "But not shocking by any means, unless Zelda is going to share some exciting conversation she had with Purah this morning."

I shook my head. He seemed disappointed in her lack of reaction, and my lack of gossip to share, so he raised his empty glass and beckoned the bartender over to him. The older man appeared, drying a glass with an edge of his linen apron. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Yes, rum please" Rodolfo began, but I stopped listening as soon as the two men began discussing varieties.

Impa rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. "Not him too. I don't think I can handle an encore of your birthday banquet. Not both of them."

"What happened?" I asked, curious as to what happened after I retired for the night.

"Nothing that concerns you, Zelda," she said, stretching her legs out. "I just hope I'm not needed as a nurse tonight. I have no desire to be on bucket duty for a long time."

I shuddered, remembering that I had seen several maids scrubbing at the floor the day after the ball.

"Well, I should probably check in on the happy couple," she said, stretching her arms over her head and winking at me as she glanced at Rodolfo. "And finish their bar tab for the night."

I sat in silence for a minute, sipping absentmindedly with nothing else to do. The fiddles had begun to play a romantic waltz and a few of the dancing couples circled about the creaking floor, wrapped in each other's arms. Why did I see myself reflected in each of the women twirling about in long skirts? And why was I seeing Link in each of the men as they lowered their partners in a dip?

"Sorry, I didn't anticipate such a long conversation about exotic foreign rums," Rodolfo said as he turned back toward me, dissolving my reverie.

"I have a question for you," I stated, still staring at the dancers, half of my thoughts many miles away from the dim tavern.

"I will do my best to answer it, my lady."

"Did you have any involvement with the music at my birthday banquet?"

"Well, I helped select some songs," he said, straightening his shoulders. "Given my interest in music, I worked closely with the orchestra. And, I had invited some Rito musicians, Master Adja and his band, for the event as well."

"I'm asking, because," I paused, trying to find a casual way to ask the question. "Because I recognized many of the grand waltzes and polkas, and whatnot, but there was there was one song I—I had never heard before. "

"The piece playing when you were dancing?" he asked, an inscrutable emotion written in the lines around his eyes and mouth. "The waltz?"

"Yes," I replied, unsure of what emotions his response hid.

"The main melody, the 'da-da-da-da-da-da-daaaa' bit," he sang excitedly, clearly eager to demonstrate his knowledge, "consists of an old folk tune I learned from an esteemed Rito bard when I was younger. Ever since he first played it I have heard it echoing about in my heart. I was working with Master Adja and the court orchestra to arrange an orchestral arrangement. The other—"

"It was mesmerizing," I exclaimed, interrupting him. "Are there words to go with it? Does it tell a story?"

"I've longed for that answer all my life, your highness," he said with a heartbroken, wistful smile, and I could tell that he too was gazing beyond the dusty bottles and into the distant past. "The old bard never told me. I'm not sure if he even knew. I've desired to become a bard since I was a boy, simply so that I could travel the land in pursuit of the song's words." He inhaled, candlelight flickering in his eyes. "My life's quest is to discover its meaning."

I nodded, his reverent quietness shocking me as much as the revelation of his childhood memories and dreams. I found it easy to imagine a young Rodolfo prancing about in velvet tunics and quoting Hylian poetry.

"But if you enjoyed that piece, you should listen to some of the musicians at the milk bar in Mabe Village. Impa might think I don't care for folk music, but there's nothing else more wonderful when its performed with passion and talent in equal measure. Someday I'd love to take you there."

"That sounds exciting. I'd love to hear them!"

His eyes glowed, with a brightness that radiated through his smile. I had never seen someone's face light up in such a literal way. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, smiling as if about to burst with joyous laughter.

"I'm sure they'll be other expeditions, and plenty of—"

"—Sir Robbie the Brave!" Robbie shouted, knocking Rodolfo forward.

"My lady, I'm here to rescue you from the evil bard! You deserve a better prize for finding such an important artifact single-handedly!"

"I—what—no, he's not bothering—and it wasn't just me—" I spluttered, heat spreading over my face.

But Robbie wasn't listening. He grabbed Rodolfo's collar and yanked him from the bar before grabbing my hand and pulling me off my seat. I stumbled forward, only prevented from falling by the ridiculous force of his hand dragging me toward the door. Faces blurred into a monochrome haze as he maneuvered us through the multicolored crowd of tavern patrons. Purah's voice followed us, a yell of "Robbie, no!" I saw a flash of silver and grabbed at it. It was Impa. We interlocked our hands and were tugged along by the vice grip of destiny, Robbie the Brave.

He pulled us out the door and across the rickety porch—Impa nearly stumbling down the step to the ground—through the gardens and dooryards. He pushed open a gate and now we were sprinting through a flock of cuccos, who chirped and squawked at us, each of us jumping over an overturned bucket of feed in turn, before we maneuvered through another gate, which slammed into my leg as I ran through it. Impa must have grabbed hold of Rodolfo, his panicked yells followed behind her.

"Bravely bold Sir Robbie rode foooooorth from Castletoooooownnnnn!" Robbie sang as he burst into the sweet meadow grass that swallowed our legs and smelled of flowers.

He kept running, shouting to the stars and sprinting toward the lake. Finally he let go of my hand and I flew forward, propelled by my own momentum like a child stuck in a game of crack the whip. I released Impa's hand and I collapsed onto the ground, chest heaving and legs aching.

Robbie slid unto the grass and skidded onto the beach, scattering pebbles up into the air around him. Suddenly, new constellations filled the sky, the pale pebbles suspended in the inky blackness, glimmering and shining in the moon's glow. They hung for an infinite moment before they plunged, like shooting stars, toward the beach and the smooth lake. I watched, literally starstruck, as a few peppered my legs.

"What the hell was that about, Robbie?" Impa asked, panting as she struggled to her feet. "I was having a nice night!"

"I had to protect the princess' honor," Robbie shouted, gesturing at me. "Who else was going to defend her from the menacing bard?"

Laughing too much to stand, I fell to the ground again, having just risen to my feet.

Rodolfo staggered to his feet and spluttered. "Robbie, you spilled my drink and stained my tunic! This white bird isn't supposed to be amber!" he said, pointing to one of his miniscule, embroidered birds. He scooped a handful of pebbles from the beach and began pelting them at him. Robbie shouted desperate excuses and ducked behind Impa for protection.

"Yes, brave Sir Robin turned about," Rodolfo laughed aloud, mocking Robbie's song. "And gallantly he chickened out. Swiftly taking to his feet, he beat a very brave retreat!"

Impa, clearly unwilling to function as a human shield, picked up a frog and shoved it in front of him. Robbie jumped away with a shriek. "Bravest of the brave Sir Robbie!" she sang, laughing.

"You ruined my song!" Robbie whined, scrambling to his feet before squatting into a fighting stance and boxing at the wind with his fists.

"That's why you don't mess with the Court Poet," Rodolfo said, crossing his arms with a self-satisfied smirk.

But as we stared and laughed at Robbie, Purah launched herself from the grass and tackled Rodolfo completely by surprise, pushing him into the muddy grass.

"Now you've really ruined my tunic!" Rodolfo shouted, spitting grass clippings from his mouth.

"Run!" Impa shouted at me, having noticed that Rodolfo was scooping handfuls of mud from the lakeshore. She started sprinting up the hill and I followed her. She easily clambered onto one of the large circular hay bales, which stood in several rows. After struggling to find a place to put my foot, Impa extended her hand and hoisted me up to the bale besides her.

I crawled along the row until I found a dry bale. Contorting myself about, I managed to recline, feeling several stalks of hay poke my back and arms. Above me, the stars sparkled like diamonds in a velvet cloth.

"Hopefully they won't find us up here for at least a few minutes," she said Eventually they did and they climbed on, Rodolfo and Robbie both dripping mud and Purah laughing hysterically, her short silver hair tousled and stuck full of leaves.

I don't know how long we stayed outside, but as I collapsed back onto the hay bale after watching the wind running through the meadow, it seemed like a happy eternity. From a far-away, the travelers and merchants in the inn were also singing loudly into the night, a spritely yet mournful tune about roses and love and youth.

"If I find more than two grass stains on these trousers, Robbie, I am going to have you scrub them with your hairbrush until they're clean." Impa said sternly, somewhere to my right.

"Impa, its gonna be great," Robbie murmured, half-asleep and likely half-intoxicated. "Your pants are great."

"Excuse me?" Purah gasped loudly. "Her pants are great? What about my pants?"

I giggled. Someone was jealous.

"And you know what Robbie, you never bought me that drink you promised me yesterday," she said sitting up on her bale. Her red makeup was smudged around her eyes, and her hair was still full of hay.

"Purah, he bought you five drinks tonight." Impa said with a sigh. "And drinking all five of them is the reason why you can't remember them."

"I haven't heard Rodolfo say anything in a while, is he asleep?" Robbie asked. "He's never this quiet for so long."

"I'm very wide awake," Robbie replied seethingly. "I'm admiring the stars in silence like any cultured man would."

"Aaaand its time for bed" Impa said for the second night in a row, her voice ringing with the authority of Castletown's chapel bells. "I want to return to the castle by a reasonable hour, so we can start working on that technology."

We carefully rolled and slid from the bales onto the dewy grass. As Rodolfo staggered to his feet besides me, his regal bearing faltering for a moment, I giggled in spite of myself. He bowed deeply to me, whatever moonstruck intoxication within him exaggerating his every movement. He offered his arm to me.

"I'll escort you to your room, my lady. You never know what danger might befall, or what evil might accost you on such a short journey."

Impa smirked and fixed me a look out of the corner of her gaze "I don't know if I'd trust you to save me from danger," she muttered to herself. Impa was disappointingly right. His offer was flattering but relying on someone so tipsy for support seemed an unwise gambit.

After Robbie and Purah were carefully lowered from the bales and cajoled into standing positions with much assistance, we trudged onward, our ragtag band of researchers, pilgrims, and poets persevering through the night. We ambled through the moonlit meadows that smelled of summer and sounded like crickets, onto the porch which was occupied by a few clandestine couples, and through the open doorway into the warm, golden-lit tavern. The remaining patrons were singing an encore of that old sad song, crooning sentiments of tragic love into their mugs and goblets. Holding tight unto Impa's shoulder, I followed her through the crowd of drunks teetering on their feet, and up the stairs.

We arrived on the landing of the stairs, where a dim candle sent flickering shadows from its wall sconce. A loud noise behind us meant that Robbie or Purah had collapsed at the bottom of the stairs. Impa glanced once down the stairs before shaking her head and pushing past us. She opened the door and nodded at Rodolfo before slipping through it and slamming it shut behind her.

But in her opening and closing the door, Rodolfo and I had stepped close to each other. He seemed to emanate warmth. Perhaps fearing for my safety as we staggered away from the door, he pulled me away from the staircase with a hand on my lower back. It only rested there for a second, maybe two, before he removed it and let his hand fall to his side.

Although the hallway was deserted except for us, he lowered his voice and leaned in close to my face. "Goodnight, your highness," he whispered. "Parting is such sweet sorrow."

His face was so close to mine. And then he pressed his soft, warm lips to my cheek, setting it ablaze.

"Good night," I breathed, watching flames flicker in his eyes. It wasn't the lamp's reflection. No, the fire blazed within him, searing me anywhere he had touched me. My back and my cheek glowed warm and were branded with the imprint of his touch.

His face still close to mine, he stood watching me. Then, as if remembering something urgent, he bowed, his eyes never abandoning mine, and turned to disappear into the night like the last ray of sun.

I don't remember opening the door, or pacing into the room, or even leaning against the wall as soon as I had closed the door, but I found myself mindlessly sliding down the wall onto the floor.

Impa was brushing her hair, running her hand through her long silver locks in between each pass of the brush. She glanced at me and continued to brush. But as soon she began speaking, I couldn't recall if I had been talking, or if I had asked her a question to prompt her response. Regardless, she kept talking as if responding to something I had said, or something that had been left unsaid, or maybe she had found some abandoned thread of conversation and wove it back into words. "—That's why I never stick around Rodolfo when he gets drunk, normally he just turns into a poet, but tonight he was acting like a true bard."

"Bard," I murmured to myself, trying to remember exactly what the word meant.

We had been discussing the great bard earlier in the evening. That famous Sir William of Avon, his words were everywhere. Even in Rodolfo's words of farewell.

Thoughts and quotes swirled in my head. What is a bard, I questioned again? Writer, storyteller, singer, the logical half of my brain answered. "What is a youth?" the crowd had been singing in the tavern below. And what a pilgrimage this had been. In that famous play, the great bard had said something about pilgrims and Holy Palmer's kiss. I was a pilgrim, wasn't I? But what did he mean to say about pilgrims, anyway? I couldn't remember what he had written. My mind was in a tizzy, and it wasn't from the single glass of champagnes that had long since evaporated from my head.

I leaned against the chill, lifeless plaster, letting my head thud against it. A few moths flickered near the shadowy ceiling, their pale wings catching the candle's glow. My heart beat fast, fluttering like the violins still wailing downstairs.

Why did the wall feel like a warm hand, still resting on my lower back?

A/N

Hello Readers! Thanks for all the favs and follows. I've slipped down a dangerous rabbit hole of watching BoTW theory videos every night while reading Creating a Champion like a bible, so I need to take a day off before I write anything more to do with Zelda. But I am busy at work with chapter 6 and am making plans to edit Chapter 1, so that it reads less like a one-shot and more like the beginning of a proper series.

Also, for some reason Shakespeare has been really inspiring me lately. The chapter title comes from the song "What is a Youth" from Zeffirelli's 1968 film version of Romeo and Juliet. It's ridiculously beautiful and well worth a watch. And of course, the "Great Bard" is Shakespeare himself. However, "Sir Robbie's" song is inspired by the brilliance of none other than Monty Python.

I've been watching a lot of Downton Abbey with my grandparents, which besides transporting me back to middle school, has made me think about how work and responsibilities are intricately connected to a person's feeling of self-worth. Both Edith and Sybil speak in numerous episodes about how helping the war effort or doing some other physical work makes them feel useful and even necessary for the first time in their life. And, as a result, their self-confidence increases and they become happier people, if only for a short while.

I think Zelda only feels useful when she's researching, and naturally has the highest opinion of herself when she's doing research. She's absolutely bubbly in the cutscenes when she's out in the field talking about frogs, which contrasts greatly with her usual self. Research is her raison d'etre, and without it, she's left as a shell of herself, filled only by her father's constant critiques and internalized self-loathing.

So, it's been fun to write a carefree Zelda who relaxes and enjoys herself as she really blooms. But of course, she won't be like this for long. And speaking of Zelda, she might just have a thing for Rodolfo! She's just been swept off her feet by Link the other day, but she's in that situation where her crush isn't at the party but she's hopelessly romantic, so she's attached herself to the best-looking person present. And now she has to deal with the mixed emotions that come with that situation.

And as always, I LOVE constructive criticism, so please feel free to offer feedback on things like characterization or pacing. I don't have much experience with creative writing and writing serialized fanfiction does not help my ability to judge pacing at all. So, let me know if chapters are too long and/or overly detailed, since I don't want to go all Tolkien on y'all and spend a page describing every bit of scenery.